BEGINNING WITH THE EARLY and seminal works of
Levi-Strauss, structuralist models in anthropology with their emphasis
on systemic elegance have overlooked the interpersonal complexities of
the fieldwork situation. The ambiguous relationship of structuralist
thought to the fieldwork process has its co-origins in the formalist
bias of the former as well as in its unresolved status as either
normative methodology or 'objective description" of reality. It is
the confusion between these two poles of structuralist inquiry that
characterizes the present book under review.
The Death Rituals of Rural Greece by Loring
Danforth with photography by Alexander Tsiaras (Princeton University
Press, 1982) is symptomatic of the imposition of the formalist symmetry
of structuralist frameworks on the diffuse, contradictory,
cross-cultural reality of fieldwork—as I shall show through an
analysis of the methodologies upon which this book is based. Between
1975-76, Tsiaras, a photographer, while visiting relatives in a
Thessalian village, 'documented' a series of mortuary and exhumation
ceremonies. Upon his return to the States, he was advised to show his
portfolio to Danforth who had previously conducted an anthropological
study of the fire walkers of Agia Eleni. Motivated by Tsiaras'
photographs, Danforth traveled separately to Potamia and conducted a
brief ethnographic study of local mortuary rituals. Danforth's
ethnography and Tsiaras' photos, separated by a three-year gap as well
as the anthropological perspective of the one and the
anti-anthropological perspective of the other, form the basis of this
book.
THE STUDY OF DEATH RITUALS, according to Danforth,
has been over-exoticized in both anthropological and folkloric studies.
The proper study of death as a cultural unit in one society should
instead open into the analysis of death as a universal cultural theme.
Danforth hopes that the readers of this book will recognize their own
death in the death experience of rural Greeks. He believes that the
cultural opposition between self and ethnographic other, which prevents
this cross-cultural recognition, is based on a romanticized exoticism
that is at odds with the aspirations of a "humanistic
anthropology." In this case humanistic anthropology is identified
with structuralism and its belief in the universal cognitive origins of
diverse cultural codes.
For Danforth, this trans-cultural thematizing of
death is best expressed as binary oppositions in which the dialectical
relationship of death and life is parallel to the dialectical opposition
of nature and culture. From the perspective of these universal binary
oppositions all death rituals can be seen as the core of a universal language or code. The
performance of death-related rituals is an attempt to mediate the
opposition between life and death by asserting that death is an
integral part of life. Death, in fact, provides an opportunity to
affirm the continuity and meaning of life itself." (p. 6)
A structural homology lies hidden in Danforth's text
between the binary oppositions of death/life, culture/nature,
self/other, and anthropologist/informant. Within his schema of universal
cognitive oppositions, life (as culture) cannot define itself without
the dialectical inclusion of its opposite— death (as nature). This
formula is derived from Levi-Strauss assertion that all cultures are
concerned with the symbolic appropriation of nature which is perceived
as an antithetical domain, as the Other of culture. Through the activity
of culture, nature becomes thematized, an object of knowledge, and
subjected to discursive representation. Danforth implicitly tells us
that death as a cultural unit is homologous to nature which is also a
cultural unit. Thus the anthropological study of death is the
description of the appropriation of death as a natural event and as
Other by culture. In this process, death is transformed from a natural
event, alien and estranging, into a symbolic experience and a central
ritual of social life. This process constitutes the internalization of
death and nature— insofar as death is a natural phenomenon—by the
cultural domain. The above dialectic informs Danforth "s perception
of the status of specific cultural Others encountered in the fieldwork
process. In advocating the search for a common humanity beneath the
variation of cultures, Danforth tacitly admits that the anthropologist
requires an accessible cultural Other in order to define himself as
anthropologist. The cultural Other cannot be completely Other,
completely unapproachable, completely exoticized or particularized, for
then there would be no mediation or point of contact between the
anthropologist and this Other. Just as through symbolic-cultural
structures death becomes mediated, thematized and an object of knowledge
for the living, the cultural Other requires similar levels of
connection, relationship and epistemological formation. For Danforth,
the death of the cultural Other can be a privileged moment of connection
though which "superficial" cultural divisions are overcome.
The paradigm of a "common humanity" here is
concerned with the epistemological preconditions for knowing the Other
and being able to say something about this cultural Other. These
preconditions facilitate the transformation of the cultural Other into
an object of theoretical inquiry and allow the anthropologist as an
ethnographist to "narrativize" the other in texts. It is this
"narrativization" of the village of Potamia through
structuralist models and journalistic photographs that is the pivotal
issue of this book. Taken together, the texts and photos constitute a representation
of the death rituals and wider culture of rural Greek villagers.
Danforth admits that this representation of the death rituals of Potamia
is normative and systematic:
The format (of the book) is designed to minimize
the distance between the reader and the Greek villagers whose life
and death are presented here: to enable the reader to come to see
these rites not as something distant and exotic but rather in the
words of Levi-Strauss as a 'distorted reflection of a familiar
image...’ (p. 6)
Danforth hopes his book will "enable the reader
to transcend, at least in part, the opposition of Self and Other, to see
himself in the Others presented here, and to see his death in the deaths
of the people of rural Greece." (page 7) The question however
remains: Why is the cultural Other to be brought into greater proximity?
And how is this to be accomplished? Why should the death rites of Greeks
be transposed into a familiar yet distorted reflection or refraction?
(The visual metaphor as paradigm is relevant here.) Danforth seems to be
referring as much to Tsiaras' photos and to photography as a form of
representation in general, as he is referring to the "narrativiza-tion"
of alien cultures in anthropology.
Danforth hopes that through this book the reader will
transcend the opposition between self and cultural otherness. But this
book will certainly supply no transcendence to the villagers of
Potamia. The absorption of the villagers of Potamia into common humanity
and universal mortality contains ^o-meaning in their society. The people
of Potamia already possess their own strategies for transcending
otherness—the mortuary rituals documented in this book. In peasant
eyes, it is these very rituals in all their specificity that separate
their rural community from the external world, their cultural other. The
mortuary rituals of Potamia are rituals of identity and non-identity,
oppositions rooted not in transcultural cognitive pregivens, but in the
localized webs of kinship and the symbolic narration of individual
deaths through moiroloia or mourning songs. In the very place
that Danforth assumes he has opened a passage between self and other,
between urban American and Greek peasant, he has actually marked a site
of closure between the two societies. The true relevance of this book
lies in the absence of such rituals and social relations in our modern
society where death has been de-ritualized, "commoditized" and
rationalized. The Death Rituals of Rural Greece mark a place of
difference and separation between a culture that generates periodic
transcendence of otherness through the articulation of symbolic systems
and a culture in which only a representation of this transcendence of
otherness can be obtained.
Instead of producing an identification between the
reader's experience of death and the death experiences of Greek
villagers, this book is an eloquent and ironic reminder of what is
absent in our own culturally specific experience of death. This irony
undermines any structuralist paradigm of a universal built-in mental
structure organizing the opposition between life and death. The
rationalization and "commoditization" of death in our society
which ranges from the possibility of nuclear holocaust to the advanced
technology of the modern mortuary, bears witness to a historically
determined estrangement from those death-life dialectics that can be
encountered in "traditional" societies. The ritualization and
symbolization of death does not find its origins in an inner
organization of the human mind as the structuralist argument asserts,
but arises out of the historically determined conditions of human
existence. Each society produces its own forms of death both materially
and symbolically. The universalization of death is a historical process
that is solely a product of our modernity and a symptom of the elevation
of our culture into a world-wide value system at the expense of small
societies and peripheral cultures.
FOR DANFORTH THE PRIMARY function of death rituals in
rural Greece is the mediation and resolution of the liminal status of
both the deceased and relevant mourners. The ritu-alization of burial
and bereavement is posited by Danforth as a symbolic passage from a
marginal condition of mourning and burial seen by the Greek peasant as
polluting, to a non-liminal condition in which the villagers, now
purified, return to normal social life. At the same time, the deceased
makes his final passage from the world of the living to the domain of
the dead.
This interpretation of the death process in rural
Greece is curiously congruent with Danforth's implicit assumption
concerning the nature of fieldwork: since the Greek mourner exists
within a liminal, marginalized state between an everyday world and a
symbolic, cathartic dimension, the American investigators who by their
very origins possess a pre-assigned liminality in relation to Greek
village life, can slip into the culture and participate in a shared,
communal marginality that facilitates the process of fieldwork. Hence
the assumption that the universality of the death experience obliterates
all customary distinctions between outsiders and insiders. Danforth
claims for both Tsiaras and his photographs a penetration of the
cathartic and symbolic domain of the mortuary ritual. Tsiaras' photos
are supposedly addressing the viewer from an experiential and symbolic
center shared by the villagers.
Though almost any photograph of human social
interaction can serve as documentation of ethnographic information,
visual ethnography self-consciously subordinates aesthetics to the
pursuit of relevant data and the inner reality of another culture.
Tsiaras reverses this paradigm in his photography by privileging his
aesthetic perspective at the expense of documentation in order to impose
his cultural point of view on these ceremonies. Tsiaras' photographs
engage in a double cultural transgression—first against the customary
formality with which the mortuary rituals are conducted by the
villagers, and second against Danforth's assertions of the breakdown of
exclusionary boundaries between the mourners and their American
observers.
Immediately noticeable are the unusual and often
grotesque angles and perspectives from which some of the photos were
taken (see plates 6,9, 11, 12, 17, 27). These angles may serve an
aesthetic purpose but they are of questionable ethnographic value. Many
of the positions of the photographer are alien to any logical position
possibly held by mourners and other involved observers during the
ceremonies. The photographer is obviously in search of a visual
expressionism referring to, but certainly not congruent with, the
ambience of the ceremony. The continuous use of the candid shot catching
the mourners in mid-action and mid-expression (see plates 12, 16, 22,
and 23) is unrelated to the extremely formalized and iconographic
postures employed by the mourners as crucial components of the ritual.
Tsiaras makes the usual erroneous assumption of the Westerner that
cathartic experience necessarily implies the de-centering of posture,
body movement, or physical gesture. To the contrary, the didactic effect
of Greek mourning ceremonies lies in their eloquent alternation between
a patterned series of formalized gestures and a flood of emotional
outpouring that is constrained and channelled by these movements.
Tsiaras' visual aesthetics and his focus on the grotesque and distorted
are due to his inability to recognize pattern, order and meaning in
social phenomena that do not belong to his own social world (see Tsiaras'
own description of the ceremony quoted later on in this paper). The
aesthetic angles employed by Tsiaras violate Danforth's paradigm against
exoticizing such rituals. Tsiaras' photos do exoticize the
ceremony and function as distinct semiotic boundaries between mourners
and photographer. The use of such grotesque angles can be seen as an
aesthetic device for establishing the 'documentary realism' of the
photos. The aesthetic construction of such documentary realism is
antithetical to the scientific requirements of ethnographic
documentation and to the reconstruction of ritual. These aesthetic
devices harbor the photographer's own unstated, culturally determined
point of view. We look vainly for any discussion clarifying this
aesthetic point of view in relation to the villagers' subjective
experience.
THE DEATH RITUALS OF RURAL GREECE contains an
aborted dialogue between anthropologist, photographer, and Greek
peasant. It is the presence of these disparate and often antagonistic
discourses that allows us to move beyond the abstract level of aesthetic
analysis and methodological discussion towards a reconstruction of the
fieldwork process from which this book emerged. It is remarkable the
extent to which the discontinuity between texts and photographs remains
unrecognized by the anthropologist who is supposed to be the alert
reader of cultural discontinuity and difference.
The central issue here is Danforth's persistent claim
that due to the liminality dominating the mortuary rituals, Tsiaras, on
different occasions, was freely incorporated into the ritual process and
cathartic process by the mourners. I have already noted to what extent
Tsiaras' photographic style indicates both an ethnocentric
interpretation of the catharsis occurring during the mourning ceremonies
and an aesthetic distancing between photographer and his subjects. These
discontinuities between photographer and subjects are eloquently
commented on by the villagers themselves. In plate 14, the village
priest has halted the burial proceedings in mid-ceremony just as the
coffin had been lowered into the grave. Assuming a stiff pose of
benediction (his hand is turned toward the dead while his face is turned
toward the camera), he asks Tsiaras if he would like to take any more
photographs. Danforth interprets the scene in the following way:
Until that moment the priest had never spoken to
Tsiaras; until that day he had never seen him. Tsiaras, the outsider,
has suddenly taken the place of the deceased as the center of
attention. The line between participant and observer had been crossed.
The frame of the ritual drama had been broken as the photographer
stepped on stage and assumed a role himself" (plate 14).
We must first examine the ruptures within this
astounding commentary before turning to an alternative interpretation of
what is occurring in the photograph and the significance of the
priest's gestures and offer.
Danforth proposes a symbolic equivalence between the
two seminal representatives of liminality, the "deceased" and
Tsiaras, the "outsider." It is Danforth's implicit assumption
that this co-liminality of photographer and the dead allows Tsiaras to
step onto the stage and take on a role himself in the ritual.
1. There is the immediate contradiction in Danforth's
statement between his assertion that the frame of the ritual drama has
been broken and the assertion that the photographer has stepped on stage
and taken on a role, no doubt a formalized ritualistic role. But what
stage is present and for whom can a specific role be played if the drama
has been broken? If a new drama has begun, it is obvious that the play
of roles is solely between the priest and the photographer. But this
interaction is far from being a ritual; it only involves the priest and
the photographer, and does so in a manner that excludes the community of
mourners. The stage is the creation of the priest who intentionally
dominates it with the appropriate ecclesiastical gesture, a gesture that
is all the more duplicitous since, though it is apparently directed
toward the dead, it is actually directed toward the photographer.
2. Danforth asserts that Tsiaras has displaced the
deceased as the center of attention. To some extent this is true.
Tsiaras has become the center of attention for the priest, for like the
deceased, his presence affords the priest an opportunity to dramatize
ecclesiastical authority within the mortuary ritual. The priest is the
one who is assuming stage center and Tsiaras is confirmed as outsider
and audience in this very gesture. In the background the women mourners
remain in catharsis ignoring the interaction between the photographer
and the priest.
The priest has put on a show for Tsiaras precisely
because he is an outsider. The priest's bid for a central role in the
ritual at this moment signifies a crucial ethnographic fact ignored by
Danforth. Throughout the greater part of mortuary ceremonies, it is the
women who dominate the ritual and direct the intensity of the catharsis.
The arrival of the priest at such ceremonies signifies the intervention
of established male dominated religious authority and for the period
during which the priest officiates, the women are forcibly pushed from
the center of the ritual process. There is another division within Greek
mortuary rituals revealed by this photo but uncom-mented on by Danforth.
Besides the division between official church forms of burial ritual and
the women's mourning style (i.e. cathartic cries, weeping, and the
performance of mourning songs), there is also a strong gender division.
Men for the most part play a peripheral sidelines role: they carry out
the coffin, they dig the grave and bury the dead, but it is
mainly the women who animate the actual mourning process. In this
particular photo these central actors of the mourning ceremony do not
show the faintest awareness or recognition of Tsiaras' presence. As the
priest poses for the photographer, the women remain caught within a
cathartic state; a liminality unattainable by either Tsiaras or the
priest.
These comments on Danforth's idealization of Tsiaras'
fieldwork experiences is exclusively based on the photographs and text
contained in The Death Rituals of Rural Greece. In a separately
published article, Tsiaras, writing alone, has in-advertently provided
us with material supporting this critique ("The Village
Funeral," Greek Accent, March 1983). It seems that Tsiaras
was able to attend this funeral through the aggressive intervention of
his aunt who lived in a nearby village. Contrary to Danforth's
commentary, Tsiaras did have an extensive conversation with the
priest shown in the photo (plate 14) prior to the funeral and obtained
the priest's permission to photograph the ceremony. During this
conversation, the priest revealed the church's attitude towards the role
of women in mortuary ceremonies; a view which expresses the symbolic
kinship of women with the dead, and at the same time denies living men
any intense access to the symbolic domain inhabited by the women and the
dead. This inclusion of women in the death process and corresponding
exclusion of men, calls further into question Danforth's thesis
concerning Tsiaras' symbolic incorporation into the mourning ceremony;
because (he fact that Tsiaras is a man, automatically limits the depth
and intensity of his participation in the ritual.
I pointed to all the men and asked why they did
not also remain in the room with the deceased. He (the priest)
answered that it was not the custom, and then, as if quoting from
the Bible, he said: "Men are born clean and women are born
dirty, and the body of the deceased human being is also filthy, so a
man should not stay in its presence for long or he too will be
contaminated." (Greek Accent, p. 22)
When the ceremony ended, the priest requested copies
of the photos from Tsiaras.
Tsiaras' account of the funeral reveals the
experiential basis of the aesthetic estrangement that characterizes his
photography. Against Danforth's claim for Tsiaras' incorporation into
the ritual, we discover that the photographer was literally pinched and
pushed into it by his aunt:
When I reached the doorway I hesitated at the
wall of people. My aunt pinched my arm . . . she gave me a push and
I struggled forward, but every motion forced someone out... (Greek
Accent, p. 22)
From his first moment of contact with these rituals,
Tsiaras became estranged from what he saw as a grotesque ceremony. This
estrangement as evidenced in his photographs, remained with him in every
subsequent encounter with Greek death rituals:
When I got to the center of the room I could
smell the dead boy's odor mixed with a flowery cologne the women
used to dissipate the scent of decomposition. This, together with
their sweating bodies, produced a stench that was nauseating. I was
dizzied by the smell and confused by the mourners singing dirges
using words from the wedding ceremony. (Greek Accent, p. 22).
As Tsiaras began photographing the ceremony, the
immediate reaction of the deceased's mother demonstrated that Tsiaras'
presence and actions violated strict ritual boundaries:
I lifted my camera. As I prepared to photograph I
noticed I now commanded more attention than the corpse, and with the
release of the shutter I attracted everyone's stare. The mother
pounced towards me, but was blocked behind her dead son, who had now
become my protective wall. She screamed, "No photographs!"
and waved her arms as if to scratch my eyes out. (Greek Accent,
p. 24)
A few minutes later, after Tsiaras' aunt stepped in
to calm the deceased mother, Tsiaras tells us:
…my aunt slapped my hand and yelled,
"Photograph!" I had no time to think of death and formalities
[my emphasis] so I began my work (Greek Accent, p. 24)
If indeed this is the same account that Tsiaras gave
to Dan-forth, we fail to see how Danforth could depict the ceremony as a
unified cathartic field which spontaneously internalized the foreigner
in its midst. The priest has his personal concerns which did not
converge with the catharsis of the mourners. While for Tsiaras, the
cathartic domain of the mourners and the symbolism of the mourning
ceremony were reduced to "formalities" that had to be ignored
in order for him to pursue his photography.
Returning to Danforth's commentary in The Death
Rituals in Rural Greece, in plate 30, we find another overt reaction
from the villagers to the act of being photographed. The picture shows
principal female mourners exhuming the bones of a relative. Danforth has
previously identified the exhumation ceremonies as a ritualistic closure
of the mortuary cycle, symbolic of the end of the contaminating state of
death and the return to normal social life. It is indicative of the
final passage of the dead person to the other world and the ending of
the liminal status of the relevant kin. Danforth describes the scene:
"As Tsiaras photographed
Matinio, she addressed
him directly: 'We'll all look like this in the end. Some day you'll see
the remains of your mother and father exhumed this way. Some day you'll
be exhumed, then you'll look like this too." Danforth again
interprets the chief mourner's discourse as an active symbolic
incorporation of Tsiaras, the photographer, into the ritual space of the
exhumers. But, as in the photograph of the officiating priest, the
mourner's discourse and pose indicate exactly the opposite—an ironic
acknowledgement of the cultural distance between the mourners and the
photographer, hidden beneath the surface politeness of her offer to
pose. The chief mourner stops the exhumation ceremony in order to pose
for the photographer. The entire gesture is self-consciously
iconographic; and, as a process of image making, indicates her awareness
of the difference between the emotional reality of mourning and the
photography as secondhand representation of reality. So, rather than
incorporation, the action and discourse of the mourners indicates a
recognition of the photographer's alienation and distancing. It is
within the semantic context of the mourner's pose and momentary
suspension of the exhumation ceremony that her discourse should be
understood. For this discourse contains all the didactic and ironic
double meanings that characterize the linguistic handling of social
conflict by rural Greeks. She first reminds Tsiaras that we all will look
like this (i.e. bones, skull) after we are buried. The reference to a
visual appearance points indirectly to the photographer's own investment
in visual realities. The visual investment in itself is highly
threatening in these situations in Greek culture. It is not customary
for I an unrelated person to stare at such crucial ceremonies;
particularly a male since these ceremonies are intrinsic to the women's
symbolic practice.
She then proceeds to inform the photographer that his
parents will also look like this pile of bones after their burial. The
introduction of a kinship relation is crucial here since the entire
cycle of death and mourning ceremonies concerns the temporary suspension
of kinship stability and the reactivation of kinship bonds. This is
effected through rituals that enforce a communal solidarity by invoking
the symbolic presence of the absent deceased whose death has broken the
kinship chain. The reference to the potential exhumation of Tsiaras'
parents contains within it multiple ironies: Obviously if his parents'
bones were to be exhumed, he would not be able to maintain the same
emotional distance indicative of his picture taking at the current
ceremony. The introduction of the kinship theme and a chronology of
hypothetical burials of Tsiaras' parents and Tsiaras himself, may refer
to the generational schisms that haunt Greek rural life. Tsiaras, as a
member of the younger generation, is perceived as separated from
traditional communality through his lack of involvement in mourning and
exhumation rituals; therefore, he is seen as someone who is not
concerned with the reinforcement and reproduction of kinship solidarity.
Matinio invokes a fictional chronology of burial for Tsiaras' family
precisely because she suspects that he is estranged from these rituals.
The mourner's discourse is in partial concurrence
with Dan-forth's model in its acknowledgement of a universal
inclusiveness of death. But she then proceeds to draw sharp cultural
boundaries by invoking the ritualistic mediation of death which in the
eyes of the mourner is totally associated with specific
trans-generational kinship obligations. The presence or absence of these
reciprocities is the foundation for the definition of
community/non-community, we/they, and self/other dichotomies.
In Tsiaras' separate account of another mortuary
ceremony, we do find a moment in which there is an attempt to
incorporate him into a cathartic domain. Significantly, this attempt is
made by a relative and because of the kinship link between them. Tsiaras
responds to this attempt of incorporation as follows:
I didn't know how to react. Too much was happening
too quickly. I forced myself not to think about it, but put it aside
in my mind until later. (Greek Accent, p. 46)
In his introduction to the book, Danforth expresses
the hope that this project will facilitate a cross-cultural sharing of
the universal experience of death. Throughout the book, this aspiration
dominates the interpretive paradigms used by Danforth in commenting on
Tsiaras' photos. But, contrary to the general thrust of the book, what
is documented here is the confrontation of contrasting cultural
realities and the aggressive assertion of the world view of the Greek
peasant through boundaries of inclusion and exclusion based on kinship,
residence, and ritualistic participation in symbolic systems.
Beyond these interpretive problems, the project
raises more serious anthropological issues. The entire photographic
aspect of the project from which The Death Rituals of Rural Greece emerged,
transgresses against two seminal preconditions of ethnographic inquiry:
1) the validity of the anthropologist/ informant relationship; in this
case, the relation between Danforth, the anthropologist, and Tsiaras,
the informant. Danforth should have been clear on the cultural distance
separating himself from Tsiaras but even more clear on the cultural
distance separating Tsiaras from the villagers of Potamia. 2) the
subjective experience of fieldwork. Danforth seems to have had a
distinctly different experience in the field than Tsiaras. This
correspondingly produced contradictory discourses, which Danforth
ignores. Danforth was invited to participate in a variety of mortuary
rituals and allowed to record the mourning songs of women of Potamia.
Thus certain sections of the book contain a competent ethnography of
death rituals, but the validity of Danforth's own ethnographic work is
seriously undermined by his efforts, through structuralist theorizing,
to integrate Tsiaras5 photographs into his anthropological
perspective. This point of view is doubly jeopardized because Tsiaras'
photos not only blatantly contradict Danforth's interpretation of their
contents, but they also present evidence that challenges the
presuppositions of this structuralist model when applied to rural Greek
realities. These discontinuities signify The Death Rituals of Rural
Greece as a book that is tragically at war with itself.